“And what about you?” he asked.

Well, darn. She wasn’t in the market to talk about her.

“What about me?”

“Did you always want to be a therapist?”

“No,” she said. “I’m not even sure I wanted to be one when I was one. Which is why I typically did other things on the side. Painting, working part-time in coffeehouses, that kind of thing.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“I was able to get financial aid for school with the help of a guidance counselor.” That counselor and Jenny, her therapist, were the only two people she’d ever talked to about her dad. “And then from there it was recommended I see a therapist. And it was part of being a student at the school, so I went. Jenny listened to me. It made me feel good. I realized that having someone to listen was important.”

She’d never spoken with honesty before. Not even to her high school friends. They’d spoken in veiled terms about how bad it was. Some had unexplained bruises. Some had drugs they’d stolen from their parents’ dresser drawers. They were all escaping, supporting each other, but none of them had ever wanted to detail what their home life was like. If they spent their time away doing that, what was the point of leaving?

She cleared her throat. “Anyway, it was different with Jenny. She made me feel like my words had value. Like I mattered. Like my experiences mattered and like I’d solved something by talking about them. I wanted to do that. And I had to choose a course of study so...I ended up getting a master’s in social work. I figured I would find a way to help people.”

“And you chose crisis counseling.”

“That’s partly because I move so often. It makes more sense for me to work with people who are dealing with a sudden, isolated event, rather than people who need long-term care. I like to help people. But it’s not an easy job. I mean, people in crisis are...well, they’re in crisis. And hearing about those problems isn’t always the most fun.” She drummed her fingers on the door handle. “Though I imagine I’m preaching to the choir.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Law enforcement isn’t all locking up bad guys and being the hero. It’s a whole lot of sad reality.”

“Reality is lame. It’s basically my least favorite.”

“Too bad there’s so much of it around.”

“Man, I feel like you get me,” she said, laughing and letting her head fall back against the seat. She was happy being with him. And she didn’t want to examine that too closely.

“We’re going to park up here,” he said.

She sat up straighter, her heart thundering. “And make out?”

“And wait for speeding cars to go by.”

“Uh. Boo. I like mine better.”

“This,” he said, waving his hand between them, “has to stay in your bedroom.”

“Then why did you meet me for coffee?”

“Why did you meet me?” he asked, pulling over and turning to look at her.

“Because it seems like I should know you a little. And that we should talk without fighting. If we’re going to sleep together.”

“I thought the same thing.”

“Well, so then this makes sense,” she said, biting her lip.

“Yep.”

“And we’re not making out in the patrol car.”

“No,” he said. “Please tell me you aren’t a badge bunny.”

“A badge bunny?” She turned to face him. “Is that a thing? Tell me that is not a thing.”

“It’s a thing.”

“Wow. You sound so regretful about it. It’s like a badge-related groupie, right?”

“Yes, yes, it is.”

“And you don’t sound thrilled.”

He let out a sigh. “It’s weird. I’m not a rock star or anything. Women who are hyper into the whole uniform thing...it’s weird.”

“Most guys wouldn’t question it.”

“Jack wouldn’t. Jack doesn’t,” Eli said. “The other bunny we get is the buckle bunny. They like cowboys. They go after Jack and Connor.”

“Connor obviously doesn’t go back.”

“No. He was never much of a player. And he’s less of one now. Jack, on the other hand...”

“That’s your friend. The one I met briefly the night I burst the pipes. And he was with you in the bar, too, right?”

“Yeah. That’s him. He’s more like a degenerate brother. But he’s never taken anything half as seriously as Connor or I do. Which is probably why he’s happier.”

“If more sex is equal to more happiness, then sure. Though you should be bucking up by now.”

“We’ve only had sex twice,” he said.

“We probably could have doubled that if you would have stuck around for a while last night.”

“Not the best time to have this conversation.”

“Well, just don’t go scuttling off into the cold tonight and you’re likely to get a little more action.”

He cleared his throat. “I didn’t want to assume.”

“Oh, I can go all night, buddy,” she said. Which wasn’t a theory she’d tested. Because usually one and done for the evening was fine with her. One orgasm basically put her under the table. She was a sexual lightweight in that way.

“Good to know,” he said, sounding a little strained.

She liked that she could affect him this way. Because he was so solid. So stoic and serious and good. She liked that a little naughtiness got him hot under the uniform collar. And clip-on tie.

“So now we wait in semi-camouflage,” she mused, looking into the woods on the passenger side of the car, “for an unsuspecting speeder to go by?”